Page 9 of Sweet Revenge for the Bikers

Mad Dog looks back at me over his shoulder one last time before they jog into the chaos.

At first I do what I was told, heading to the edge of the rally, but I would rather find my family than huddle under a camper hoping for the best. I skirt around the perimeter, and it’s pure luck that I see a Devil’s Brigade logo on the back of someone’s jacket. It’s nobody I know, but it’s better than nothing. I follow at a distance.

Something rams me from behind, and I hit the ground hard, scraping up my hand. The biker who runs into me doesn’t even glance down. He’s too busy running from a small mob. I roll out of the way and force down my scream by squeezing my torn-up palm. The pain temporarily pushes back my terror. How do you tell the good guys from the bad guys? Or maybe there’s no way to know.

I send a prayer into the darkness, hoping there’s someone to hear it. “Please let everyone I know be okay.”

The Devil’s Brigade member I was following is long gone, but I spot another one and scramble to my feet. It isn’t until I’m a little closer that I realize who it is. I’m not used to seeing him in his full biker gear, but even with a bandana tied over his hair, I recognize my father.

“Dad!”

He stops and stands still, head cocked like he’s trying to figure out if he just heard what he thought he did.

“Dad! It’s me! Melody.”

Whirling on the spot, he scans the crowd looking very confused. Maybe Red didn’t tell anyone he lost me? He slides his hand into his jacket and breaks into a run. “Melody? What the fuck?”

“I was⁠—”

He grabs me by the arm and drags me along with him, not stopping until we’re behind a tent. “What the hell are you doing here, girl? How the fuck did you even end up here?” He looks around, making sure we’re alone. “Did you come on your own? Who brought you?”

“What do you mean?” I’m so confused. “Red said he was told to bring me. He made it sound like you knew. Didn’t you?”

“No, of course I didn’t fucking know. I didn’t keep you out of this shit for nineteen years just for you to shove your own fucking nose in it.” He winces, and that’s when I realize that his arm’s bleeding.

“You’re hurt!”

“I’m fine. Shit.” He looks around again then holds out his hand. “We’ll talk about this later. I need to get you the hell outta here. Come on.”

Still confused, I grab his hand and follow. This is his world, after all. He’s pulling me so hard it’s a wonder my shoulder is still in its socket, but I’ll give him a pass considering it’s literally a life or death situation. “Which way do we run?”

“Not we. You. I’ll make sure no one comes after you.” He spins me around and fiddles with my backpack. “Okay, this is what you’re going to do. Get the fuck outta here. Keep your mouth shut about seeing me. You don’t know me. You don’t know the Brigade. Shit’s going down and I need you to keep a low profile until I contact you. Is that clear?” His expression is scary. He’s never been the soft, cuddly kind of dad, but right now he looks more like a killer than the man I know.

“Until when?”

“Until whenever the fuck I get in touch. Don’t look at me like that, Dee. It’s for your own fucking good.”

“What is? How am I supposed to get home?”

He looks like he can’t tell if he wants to tear out my hair or his own. “You’re not an idiot. Look for groups. Older guys with their old ladies. If you run into one of the Crones, even better. Make up a sob story and just get the fuck out of here.”

Got it. “I’m going, I’m going. Don’t… don’t die.”

That actually gets a gruff laugh out of him. “I’ll do my best. Now fuck off.” Gentle parenting is for other kids. I nod and run in the direction he pointed. “Melody!”

I stop and look.

“Stay safe, or I’m gonna fucking kill you myself.” Then he heads the other way, the night swallowing him up.

Is it stupid that his threat makes me feel a little better? Dad might be an asshole, but he cares. I think. Obviously, he’s involved in something, but just as obviously, he’s not interested in including me in whatever it is. And honestly, I don’t want to be involved. I just don’t want him hurt. Despite everything, he’s still my dad.

I keep going, dodging behind trucks, bikes, and anything else I can find for cover. There are fewer people now, a lot already long gone. I see a group that probably matches what Dad was thinking, but it seems safer to go back to where the guys told me to wait and tell them I couldn’t get in touch with anyone.

At the very least, I’m pretty sure they’d give me a ride to the city. I’m too busy figuring out a plan, and not paying as much attention as I should.

I pass a van and catch the movement of a tall figure in the shadows. There’s no time to figure out what’s happening before pain explodes in the back of my head, knocking me forward. I barely get my hands out to catch myself before I end up on the ground again.

With a pained groan, I roll over, tasting blood in my mouth. “Wha…” I’m seeing stars, but if I squint, I can make out a shape looming above me. Two shapes? I don’t know if I’m seeing double. My head fills with static, and the blackness creeping in from the sides of my vision isn't just because of the late hour.